


Darling

by PaisleyHearts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x12 Coda, Coda, M/M, also crying, episode: 12x12, episode: stuck in the middle (with you), i suck at summaries, kissing and crying bc that's my kink, pls read/review, there's kissing in this so be prepared, there's some sam/cas bonding for reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9799595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaisleyHearts/pseuds/PaisleyHearts
Summary: He doesn’t know what else to say, what words to pick from the thousands of languages he knows to try to even alleviate this pain that is so strongly radiating of this man. So he says the word that holds the most meaning to him.





	

Mary stays behind for one reason or another, an excuse slipping off her tongue easily. None of the guys had really been paying attention at the time. Still, it makes it easier for Cas to climb into the back of the impala and just sleep. Not that he needs it, per se. It’s just something about being on the edge of death that wears an angel out and makes him want to crave sleep more than before.

They pull up in the garage at nearly one in the morning the next day, after Dean had driven the entire way with not a word from him. In some ways, it was the most awkward car ride that Sam had ever been part of. At the same time, he didn’t know what to say either. What do you do about someone who was nearly dead and then suddenly wasn’t? Congratulate them? Offer condolences? It’s complicated, just as the rest of their lives are. 

After pulling all the bags out, the three of them decide, through silence, that the things can be taken care of in the morning. All of them, at least the two humans, need a proper night’s rest before they can deal with anything else at the moment. 

Before Sam makes his way to his room, he turns to Cas, only a few steps behind him. There’s  a beat of silence, a moment where he’s not sure he should do what he wants to and then decides that it’s okay. His arms wrap around Cas’ shoulders and he feels Cas’ arms come up almost immediately. 

Sam looks up briefly, spotting Dean just coming out from the garage putting his phone back into his jean pocket after probably texting Mary over making it back to the bunker safely. Dean stops and stares at Sam, not quite making eye-contact. His fingers twitch at his sides and there is something playing across his face that Sam can’t quite put a finger on. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead.” 

Sam pulls away until he’s at arm’s length. Cas has a small, tired smile on his face. “I am too.” 

He tries to return the smile, but it probably comes out more like a grimace than anything else. Sam pats Cas on the shoulder and finally lets him go. He turns down the hallway and heads straight for his room. 

Behind Cas, Dean approaches and then passes by, headed for his room as well. Cas isn’t sure why he feels a pit in his stomach, as if he’s done something wrong. On one part, he is too tired from everything that has happened to do anything about it, the type of avoidance he learned from the Winchesters themselves. Another part, a much bigger part, wants to fix this before it gets any worse. He did, in fact, almost die not too long ago.

So he follows Dean to his room. Incidentally, the room that Cas had picked out for himself during his stay while the brothers were in prison is directly across from Dean’s. This is the reason that Dean pays no mind to Cas until he doesn’t turn right like usual. 

Cas lingers at the door and Dean pretends like he’s trying to clean up, looking absolutely everywhere but at the one person who wants to talk to him. “Is everything alright, Dean?”

“Everything’s - ,” Dean clears his throat, realizing that his voice is a pitch higher than usual. “Everything’s fine, man.”

Cas takes a chance and steps into the room, keeps walking until he is a few steps away from Dean. He thinks about reaching a hand out, putting it on Dean’s shoulder or perhaps his forearm as if to steady him. To steady him from what, Cas isn’t sure. He decides against it and leaves his hands dangling uselessly next to him.

Dean still won’t look at him.

“Dean?”

His jaw is working, like he’s trying to work up the words to say something, but he still won’t look up at Castiel, staring off to a spot just above his shoulder instead. It’s infuriating and frightening all at once.

Cas has a vague idea of what this may be about, but he doesn’t want to be right. Because, if it is about the thing, then he has been suffering at the end of a terrible silent treatment all because Dean can’t deal with things.

“Is this because I said I lo-”

“Shut up!” Dean finally does look up at him, something that isn’t quite anger flashing in his eyes. Both of his hands come to rub at his face, the miles from the last twenty-four hours finally showing on him. “Sorry.”

The sadness begins to reflect in Castiel’s eyes, fully understanding why Dean has been acting the way that he has. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable by what I said. It won’t happen again.” He makes to turn, to leave Dean in peace when a hand falls on his shoulder and roughly turns him around.

“You think this is because you made me uncomfortable?” Finally, more than one emotion is shining through Dean’s voice. And even though his words are perfectly clear, Cas still has some trouble understanding them, so he remains quiet. That’s answer enough for Dean.

The other hand comes to rest on Cas’ empty shoulder. “You didn’t make me ‘uncomfortable’, man. It’s just,” Dean bows his head and leans a little harder into Cas, “you almost died.” The last part is a whisper, like it’s a secret no one else needs to be let in on.

Dean looks back up. He’s not making eye contact again. Instead, he’s laser focused on Cas’ tie and brings a hand there for a moment. “You really almost died this time and I can’t handle that.”

Something is trickling into the air between them and Cas can’t even bring himself to breathe. Part of him knows that this is one of those moments in which some may be tempted to speak but he needs to stay silent, to let Dean work through whatever emotions are raging just underneath the surface. So he does nothing, says nothing when Dean’s fingers slowly come to trace the lapels of his trench coat.

A minute or an hour passes before Dean speaks again, without looking up, “You can’t just say things like you did when you think you’re going to die. It’s not fair.”

There are tears glistening in his eyes, reminiscent back in the barn when Castiel was in a much different state than he is now. “Dean.” He doesn’t know what else to say, what words to pick from the thousands of languages he knows to try to even alleviate this pain that is so strongly radiating of this man. So he says the word that holds the most meaning to him.

Dean looks up at him, tears slipping past and falling onto his cheeks. He starts to pull a hand away from Cas’ lapels, to wipe them with the back of his hand but Cas is too fast. He takes a step forward and grabs Deans face, gently cradling it between his hands. With only his thumbs, he wipes each tear. There’s only a few, but enough to make Dean’s face tacky with salt.

Only because it seemed to work the first time and only because anything else would seem inappropriate, Cas says it again. Only, this time, it’s a question. “Dean?” He’s not sure what he’s asking for. Permission, perhaps. Forgiveness. Grace. Mercy.

Dean erases the sparse distance between them and kisses Cas like it’s nothing and he is frozen.

During Castiel’s brief stint as a human, he would spend more time trying to figure out how to go to sleep than actually sleeping. Once, he spent an entire night seeing how long he could hold his breath. Each time, he would go just a few seconds longer, reveling in the pressure-pain of his lungs when he would go just a tad too long without a breath.

This is a lot like that, but also a thousand times better. There’s a horrible moment where Cas is completely taken aback by the action that he does nothing, and then he responds with everything he has in him. He pulls Dean closer to him by his face. A soft noise escapes him and he can feel more tears slipping through his fingers only to land on his own cheeks.

They back up into the wall space between the door and the desk and stand there, Cas’ back to the wall and kiss and kiss and kiss. More than anything, it’s Dean’s tears that cause them to break apart, his silent crying starting to turn into something much more. Cas just hugs Dean to him. It’s nothing like the way he cradled his soul into his grace all those years ago, but he tries the best he can with a human vessel.

Dean wraps his arms around Castiel and puts his forehead to Cas’ collar. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” It doesn’t seem that Dean is aware that he’s actually saying anything out loud.

Cas isn’t sure if he’s referring to _this_ or to the pressure of all the things that have been happening to them as of late. Still, he takes a hand and runs it through Dean’s hair while the other holds onto his broad shoulders. He stares into the empty room, Dean murmuring into his collarbone and hopes that he can be enough to fix this.

**Author's Note:**

> this is dan's fault
> 
> spn: findingcas.tumblr.com  
> everything else: capsxldier.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @2aguacates


End file.
